Lark wondered how any mother could ever deny such an adorable boy anything. Katherine smiled at Lark, and Lark immediately felt guilt rising in place of jealousy, for she seemed a warm, sincere woman—a woman any man could little else but love.
“Yes, Charles,” Katherine said. “But you do everything she tells you to. Don’t you give her any trouble, do you hear?”
Charlie nodded, and Lark smiled when he threw his little arms around her neck. She lifted him out of the wagon, giggling as he hit the ground nearly running already.
“Which way?” he asked. “Which way to the chickens?”
“I mean it, Charles!” Katherine reiterated. “You better mind Miss Lark.” She smiled at Lark again, fresh tears brimming in her beautiful blue eyes. “Thank you,” she said, dabbing the tears from her cheeks as they spilled over.
“Can we go, Miss Lark?” Lizzy asked. “Me and Johnny?”
“Of course,” Lark said. Little Lizzy was as pretty as a fairy child. Again she wondered how Katherine found the fortitude to keep from giving into them at every request.
“I don’t wanna go feed the chickens,” Johnny mumbled.
“You may go, Lizzy,” Katherine consented. “But you mind too, you hear?”
Lizzy squealed and scrambled down from the wagon. Taking Lark’s free hand, she smiled. “Are these chickens for eatin’?” she asked. “Or do these just lay eggs?”
Lark giggled. “Both.”
“Are we gonna pick one to chop up for supper?” Charlie asked.
Again Lark giggled. “Not tonight, sweetie.” She remembered then, remembered that she would need to start supper soon.
“I’ll be in to begin supper directly,” Lark said, glancing to Slater.
Slater frowned. “Begin supper directly?” Shaking his head, he muttered to Katherine, “Danged if I can figure what she’s sayin’ half of the time.”
Katherine smiled as she took Slater’s arm. “She’s charming, Slater…just lovely. Wherever did you find such a treasure?”
“Slater didn’t find her, Katie,” Tom chuckled. “I did.”
“Oh, now don’t start that,” Slater grumbled, pulling off his gloves.
“Come on, Miss Lark!” Charlie said, tugging on Lark’s hand. “I wanna see the chickens!”
Lark smiled at him and began to walk toward the chicken house. She paused, however, when she felt someone take hold of her arm.
“Here,” Slater said, holding out his gloves. “Take these. It’s chilly.”
Lark smiled and dropped Lizzy’s and Charlie’s hands long enough to pull on Slater’s far too large gloves.
“We’ll be in shortly,” she told him as the warmth his hands had left in his gloves traveled up her arms and into her bosom.
“You behave, Charles,” Katherine said, wagging a warning index finger at her son. “I mean it.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come with us, Johnny?” Lark asked. She noticed the way the boy stood watching them. He did want to come. Still, as he shook his head, she knew his tender male ego had gotten the better of him.
“Come on, Miss Lark,” Charlie whined, “before Mama changes her mind.”
Lark glanced to Slater and forced a nod and a smile even as her heart ached at watching Katherine wrap her arms around one of his strong ones.
Slater had cared for Katherine in their youth—loved her—it was obvious. And now, now that she’d returned—vulnerable, fragile, and beautiful as any stage actress Lark had ever seen photos of—how could he resist loving her again? Lark swallowed the pain and disappointment in her heart. Turning, she led Charlie and Lizzy toward the chicken house. The chill in the air reminded her that winter was only a breath away. She thought of her little room—of the warm days and nights spent in the Evans ranch house. She could endure watching Slater and Katherine together—but only because her safety and comfort depended on it.
Slater watched Lark as she walked toward the chicken house with Katherine’s children. He swallowed the heated desire gathering in his mouth as she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him. Every muscle in his body tensed as he strained to keep from racing after her—from forcing her into his arms—from ravishing her right then and there!
“I just can’t wait to get inside!” Katherine chimed. “It’s…it’s just like comin’ home.”
She released Slater then, taking Johnny’s hand and hurrying up the porch steps toward the front door.
Turning to look at him, she asked, “Is it all right if we just…just go on in?”
“Of course,” Slater mumbled, unable to keep his attention from returning to Lark. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment—endeavoring to calm his desires.
“What’s the matter with you?” Tom asked.
Slater gritted his teeth and shook his head. “What the hell were you thinkin’ when you hired that girl?” he growled to his brother.
Irritation flared in him as Tom chuckled.
“Truth be told…I was thinkin’ it was about time you started livin’ again, Slater,” Tom said.
Slater turned and glared at Tom. He raised a scolding index finger and gave it a warning wag as he said, “Well, you better hope I don’t take to…to actin’ on some of my thoughts where she’s concerned, boy.”
Tom still smiled understandingly. “Well, they can’t be that bad, brother.”
“Some’s bad enough to find me thrown in jail,” Slater mumbled.
“Not if you were to marry her first,” Tom teased.
Slater frowned and growled as he shook his head. “I ain’t talkin’ to you if you’re gonna be ridiculous.”
Grumbling to himself, Slater stormed toward the house. What nonsense Tom could talk sometimes! Stomping up onto the porch, he paused a moment before entering the house. He took a deep breath—calmed himself as best he could. Katherine was hurting, alone, and frightened. He didn’t want her knowing how torn up he was over Lark. One more deep breath and he entered the house to find Katherine in tears.
“It’s like comin’ home, Slater!” she cried. “Just like comin’ home!”
Lark showed Charlie and Lizzy how to scatter the feed for the chickens. A smile brightened her face as she watched them. They were beautiful children—absolutely delightful! Her heart ached for their loss—for the insecurity and fear they must be feeling. Oh, certainly they didn’t feel it the way Katherine was feeling it, for they didn’t understand how difficult it was to provide food and shelter for someone—or one’s self. But Lark did. She wondered if Katherine’s husband had put aside any money—any provisions for his family.
Oh, Lark well knew that Slater and Tom would never allow Katherine or her children to suffer or do without. Still, to do without a father, especially a good father—to do without his love and protection—it was a frightening thing. Lark knew just how frightening. Yet Slater and Tom could provide that as well, couldn’t they? If Katherine stayed on, it was sure Slater and Tom would father the children or at least guide them as any good uncle would. In truth, one of them could even marry Katherine—actually become the children’s stepfather.
She tried to brush aside these thoughts, for they caused her to tremble. She well knew which Evans brother Katherine Thornquist would choose to marry—which brother she would choose to father her children—to father more children—Slater.
She couldn’t think of it—she wouldn’t! If she knew anything, it was that she could not linger in watching Slater marry Katherine—or any other woman. She felt a pain begin to sicken her stomach, gasped as the same pain gripped her heart.
“I suppose it might be interesting to live here.”
Lark whirled around. Johnny stood just outside the chicken yard fence.
“I know they run cattle…but do they have horses? I mean, besides the Clydesdales?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lark managed, hoping the moisture in her eyes would quickly dissipate. “Several.”
“I like horses,” the boy said.
“Me too.”
“I heard Slater tellin’ Mama that you have a way with horses.”
Lark shrugged. “Sometimes. I seem to be able to soothe them.”
“Will you show me?” Johnny asked.
Lark forced a smile and nodded. “I will.”
“We’re finished!” Lizzy announced. “What can we do now?
“Well, I need to start supper,” Lark told them, ushering them through the gate and latching it behind her. “And besides, it’s getting a little too chilly. Let’s get you inside and warm you up.”
“Can we run back to the house?” Charlie asked. “Can we?”
Lark nodded. “Yes…but be careful.”
“We will!” Lizzy squealed with excitement.
As Charlie and Lizzy sprinted toward the house, Johnny fell into step beside Lark.
“How old are you, Johnny?” she asked. She knew how hard it was for boys his age to start any conversation—especially with girls or women.
“Almost twelve,” Johnny mumbled. “Daddy was gonna get me my own horse on my birthday come March.”
Lark winced at the wrench of heartache in her own chest. “Well, I know it isn’t the same…but Slater and Tom buy and sell horses all the time. Maybe you’ll still get one of your own.” She silently told herself that she must remember to mention the boy’s birthday and desire for a horse to Slater and Tom.
“Did they give you one?” the boy asked.
Lark shook her head. “No…but I don’t really have need for one. I’m here most all the time.”
“Well, I want one,” Johnny mumbled. “I want to cowboy too…young…just like Slater did.”
“It’s a hard life,” Lark offered.
“How many cowboys do you have here?”
Lark smiled, realizing the boy wasn’t about to listen to anything discouraging where his dreams were concerned.
“Four—I mean three,” Lark said. “We had four…but…but one left.” She grimaced at the memory of Chet Leigh. Somehow the thought caused her to quicken her step, for she wanted only to be back in the safety of the house in that moment. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet them…maybe even later this evening.”
“They don’t come to the house for supper?”
Lark shook her head. “No. The Evans brothers do things a bit different. The cowboys keep pretty much to themselves out at the bunkhouse.”
“Maybe I could bunk in with them!” Johnny exclaimed. “Do you think they’d let me?”
“Who? The cowboys…or Slater and Tom?” she asked, delighted by the sudden sparkle in Johnny’s eyes.
“Either one. Should I ask them?” he asked.
“Well, I’d wait a few days,” Lark said. “And…and you might want to talk to your mother about it first.”
Johnny’s shoulders sagged as he climbed the back porch steps. “Well, I might as well not even get my hopes up then.”
Lark smiled at the boy with understanding. Tenderly placing a hand on his shoulder, she said, “I’m sure if you wait a while…it’ll all work out.”
Johnny shrugged, then nodded, and smiled a little.
As Lark stepped into the house, she was greeted by the delightful prattle of excited children. She hung her coat on the coat rack, carefully hung Slater’s hat there too, smoothed her hair, and followed Johnny into the kitchen.
Slater and Tom sat at the table; Katherine did too. But Charlie was skipping around the room as Lizzy sat on Tom’s lap.
“Do you have a rooster that crows in the morning?” Lizzy asked.
“Yes, we do,” Tom answered. His smile was as broad as a barn door and caused Lark to smile as well.
“Is there a swimming hole around here in the summer?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, sir…there is,” Slater chuckled.
“Are we allowed to play in the house, or do you like it quiet?” Lizzy asked.
“Will we get to milk a cow?”
“Yes…sometimes…and yes,” Slater answered.
Charlie looked up as Lark and Johnny entered the room.
“I seen our room, Johnny!” Charlie exclaimed. “We have a bed and everything!”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Johnny said, smiling at his brother.
“And I get to share a bed with Mama,” Lizzy chimed. “A big bed! Bigger than yours, Johnny!”
“Well, that’s good…’cause you take up a lot of space,” Johnny teased her.
“Who do you sleep with, Miss Lark? Uncle Slater or Uncle Tom?” Charlie asked, childlike innocence radiating from his blue eyes.
Lark gasped, as did Katherine. Slater and Tom, however, simply burst into chuckling.
“I-I have my own room, Charlie,” Lark stammered. “My own bed too.”
“You sleep all by yourself?” Charlie exclaimed, horrified. “Don’t you get scared?”
“No,” Lark stammered as Slater and Tom tried to rein in their laughter.
Katherine jammed an elbow into Slater’s ribs. “Hush, Slater,” she scolded. “He’s just a little boy.”
“So you ain’t never been married, Miss Lark?” Johnny asked.
“Well…well, no,” Lark answered.
“Why not?” Lizzy asked.
Lark cleared her throat. She was uncomfortable—overly warm. “Well…I suppose…I’m not…I’m only nineteen. I…”
“Well, our mama was only sixteen when she married our daddy. Isn’t that right, Mama?” Johnny asked his mother.
“I was nearly seventeen, Johnny,” Katherine told him. “And Lark’s got plenty of time.”
“You puttin’ your bid in early, John?” Tom teased.
Johnny shrugged his shoulders. “I was just wondering.”
“I-I better get some supper started,” Lark muttered, snatching her apron from a nearby wall hook.
“Oh, please let me help, Lark,” Katherine begged, pushing her chair back from the table.
“Oh no!” Lark exclaimed. A wave of panic washed over her. If Katherine proved to be a better cook and housekeeper than Lark was, then Slater and Tom would have no reason to keep her on. “You go ahead and visit. I’ll take care of it.” She noticed the immediate disappointment on Katherine’s face, however—the returning despair. The woman needed a task—needed to keep her mind from lingering on her loss. Lark quickly glanced to Slater. He nodded his affirmation of her own thoughts. “Unless you really want to,” she added, though somewhat unwillingly.
Katherine smiled and strode toward Lark. She took an apron down from another hook and asked, “What can I do?”
“Potatoes?” Lark carefully offered.
“Oh yes!” she breathed, obviously relieved that Lark was allowing her to assist. “Just hand me a knife. Oh, I do feel so much better…knew I would!” Katherine paused and turned to look to Slater and Tom. “I’m glad we came here,” Katherine said. “Thank you, boys.”
Slater rose from his chair and strode to Katherine. Jealously burned through Lark like a hot poker as he bent and placed a loving kiss on her cheek.
“Me too, Katie,” he said. “Now, maybe Johnny wouldn’t mind helping me finish up the chores ’fore supper.”
“Not at all,” Johnny said.
Slater’s gaze fell to Lark. Her heart began to hammer as she recognized the mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “And if you ever get tired of sleepin’ by yourself, baby,” he began with a wink, “then you just let me know.”
Lark gasped and felt her cheeks turn scarlet—felt her heart begin to pound with wild delight. Slater chuckled and winked again.
“Well, that is so kind, Uncle Slater! Just so kind!” Lizzy said. Tom and Katherine both chuckled. “Before we decided to come here, Mama told us you were a nice man…and she sure was right!”
“And he’s got a real big bed too, Miss Lark!” Charlie added.
“Oh, she knows I do, Charlie,” Slater chuckled.
“Slater Evans!” Katherine scolded. “You quit teasin’ that girl!”
“She’s used to it…ain’t ya?” he
asked Lark.
“I-I suppose,” Lark stammered. Oh, how she wished her blush would cool! Oh, how she wished he would simply take her in his arms and kiss her!
“Come on, John,” Slater said. “Let’s get that team put away. Then I’ll take ya out to meet the men who cowboy for us. All right?”
Johnny’s face lit up like a summer sunrise. “Yes, sir!” he said.
“I do not know how you’ve put up with him,” Katherine said, smiling. She turned to Tom, wagging an index finger at him as he picked up Charlie and began to bounce him on one knee. “And I know you’re no better, Thomas Evans.”
Tom chuckled and winked understandingly at Lark. Lark sighed, relieved as she felt her blush begin to cool. Her heart, however, continued to beat at feral pace. He’d teased her! He’d teased her in front of Katherine—and about such an insinuative matter! Somehow the knowledge soothed her anxieties a little.
“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” Katherine sighed as Lark handed her a potato. She smiled at Lark—a sincere smile of offered friendship. “And I’m so glad you’re here too.”
“Thank you,” Lark said, for it was all she could think to say.
After supper, however, as the cool and darkness of night descended, Katherine’s anxieties returned. She wept near constantly—though she tried to enjoy lighthearted conversation in the parlor. Lark watched her, her own heart aching, for she could well imagine the pain she would know if something were to take Slater’s life. He would never be her husband, she would never bear his children, yet the imagined pain invoked by the simple thought of losing him—it was excruciating. Thus she felt sorrow for Katherine—pity and great compassion.
The children were tired—so tired they were growing ill-tempered. Yet it was apparent that Katherine did not have the vigor see to them. As Charlie and Lizzy begged their mother to tell them a story, she began—yet was instantly overcome by such weeping that she could not continue.
“Would it be all right if I told you a story tonight?” Lark asked at last. “Then we could let your mother rest a bit. I’m sure she’s very tired from traveling.”
Katherine smiled gratefully at Lark as Lizzy and Charlie nodded.
Weathered Too Young Page 15
